Signs of Life
by Tony Stark's Hidden Side
Summary: Clint and Tony have been kidnapped, and SHIELD can't find them. Tony is trying to send a message, but he isn't sure anyone on the other end understands him. Clint is ticked off because Tony keeps taking beatings for him. Their captors keep sending pictures of the beaten-up captives in hopes that SHIELD gives in and surrenders. Natasha is certain those pictures are hiding clues...
1. Chapter 1

They couldn't find them. Steve felt like an absolute failure, unable to do anything to help find their missing teammates but sit around and wait for Hill or Coulson to burst in and shout that they'd noticed something in the ransom note or that another clue had surfaced.

Again and again he thought over those simple words. _We have Stark and Barton. We want the launch codes of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s or Stark's nuclear stockpile... and we don't care if one of them dies. Have Stark's CEO appear on television to announce a new product when you're ready to cooperate._

"Steve?" Bruce sat next to him, holding out a cup of coffee. "Don't beat yourself up over this, okay? It isn't your fault."

"It is. I should have checked when they didn't show up yesterday. I mean, for Stark, it's expected, but it's less common for Barton... I should have checked."

"Less common, as in only once or twice a month instead of half a dozen times?" Bruce rolled his eyes. "This has happened so many times before. You had no way to know it was more serious."

They sat in silence for a while, eventually joined by Natasha and Thor. Nobody really wanted to speak, and the two people that would tell them to lighten up... were just gone.

Tony's entire body hurt. He could help but groan as he came awake to eerie silence and a cold stone floor under his back. He did a quick inventory of himself before even trying to move. _Pain in my ankle – not broken. Sprained, most likely. Two cracked ribs, broken wrist that's improperly splinted... my shoulder is wrenched and any blood is from lacerations to my arms and a cut on my head._

He cracked his eyes open slowly. Mercifully, wherever he was, there wasn't a lot of light. He opened his eyes fully and looked around the room. _Take it slow._

 _Never mind!_ He sat upright, ignoring his ribs screaming in protest, as soon as he saw the limp bundle next to him. He crawled over. _Please don't let this be a dead body..._

"Clint!" The word was mostly a gasp, partly a prayer. His fingers fumbled to find a pulse, which they eventually did, a strong out. "Oh, thank god..."

He looked over the archer's wounds. _He was taken down by a sedative,_ his memory supplied, _then kicked about a bit._ His face tightened when he thought of what he was going to do to whoever had caused the deep purple bruising covering Clint's chest.

"So, you're awake."

The voice came from the doorway, and Tony cursed himself for not paying more attention to his surroundings. Then he stiffened, because _that question wasn't in English._

Quite suddenly, he knew exactly where he was, and who had him, and it was all he could do not to throw up immediately. Instead, he turned to face the man who had a gun trained on him.

"I should have known." He stood slowly, keeping his hands in plain sight but clenching them into fists. "What is it this time for the Ten Rings? Weapons, again?"

"Not from you," the man said simply, before leaving a cup of water and leaving. "We'll be back to take your picture in a minute," he said as his footsteps faded.

That statement sent a chill up his spine. It meant he was leverage, and _that_ meant he wouldn't be given a chance to work with weapons, and _that_ meant he wouldn't be able to escape.

 _No,_ he corrected himself, _it meant escape would be more difficult._

The thought of being leverage, however, reminded him that Clint looked like death, and on the slim chance Natasha was going to see the pictures that goon would be taking, he needed to lessen the horrific impact.

Step one was to replace Clint's shirt, which he had all but torn over his head to look at the wounds. Once the bruising was out of sight, he smoothed the man's hair and bound a gash on his hand and one on his head. Tony used strips from his own shirt sleeves for the purpose, wanting to keep the bruising on Clint's chest covered.

Before he could think about his own appearance, however, the same man as before returned with a camera. He turned and managed to give one of his trademark smirks. "Picture day? I don't suppose you have a comb? No..." he assessed the goon's disorderly head, "I guess you don't."

"You might not want to be so flippant," the man answered, and again Tony stiffened. The man was speaking Farsi, which Tony only understood thanks to Yinsen, and it was bringing back unpleasant memories. After his first kidnapping experience, he had learned a lot of languages, but Farsi and a few others always brought back the professor's face.

"Sorry, didn't quite catch that," he lied.

The man grimaced and spoke in heavily accented English. "You might not want to be so... such a funny man. Not when you lives hang in the balance."

"True, but I really don't have an off switch for it." Tony smirked and posed for the camera, sitting next to Clint and throwing up a peace sign. "Wait, am I supposed to be looking scared?"

"That would be good if you want your friend to remain alive," the man replied with a blank expression. He then reverted to Farsi, muttering under his breath, "Or just play dead."

Tony chose the former option, worried that they would hurt Clint if he didn't cooperate. He wouldn't put anything past them. So he pretended to be nervous, which wasn't hard, since he was... but he knew, if nobody else did, _Natasha_ would notice.

Hill walked into the room solemnly. "Fury asked for confirmation that they have Barton and Stark and that they're alive. We've recieved a picture."

"Hand it over," said Steve immediately. The agent threw down a printout and left.

Bruce studied the photo. "The way Tony is sitting, his ribs are giving him trouble. Clint's unconscious, not faking, so I can't tell how much pain he's in, but..."

"They'll be all right," Natasha said with the beginnings of a smile on her face. Everyone turned to her, though their eyes were back on the picture before long.

"How can you tell?" Thor was frowning, every trace of his exuberant nature vanishing beneath his concern. "The Man of Iron does not look very confident."

"He's faking," Natasha explained. "First of all, if he _were_ scared, he would be grinning and trying to play it down. He's either pretending to be scared so their captors will underestimate him, or they... threatened Clint." She winced at the thought.

Steve shook his head. "But how do you _know_?"

"Well..." she reached out and pointed to Tony's left hand. It was mostly in shadow, but even Bruce chuckled slightly. For once, he wasn't flashing them a peace sign. Instead, his index finger and thumb formed a circle, his other three fingers extended in the diver's symbol for _okay_.

"All right, Nat, I believe you," Steve smiled. "So, they're okay, not seriously hurt, but that could change any minute." His face darkened again.

Bruce shook his head. "Fury will find him. Until then, we'd better hope they can keep each other safe. Tony's done this one before, I'll bet anything Clint has, too."

Nobody mentioned the fact that Tony had come out of his last experience with a small _reactor_ in his chest and been changed forever. Never mind that it was for the better – they couldn't count on that now. Thor nodded decisively. "We will have to find them."

"Amen to that," Bruce muttered, "but _how_?"


	2. Chapter 2

Clint woke for short periods of time, just long enough to drink water, but he was off-balance. His ribs were probably killing him, not literally luckily but the pain would keep him groggy for a while.

Unfortunately, he didn't recover before their captors dragged them out of their makeshift cell and along a rock-strewn corridor. Tony was pretty sure he knew what was coming – Clint was a highly connected S.H.I.E.L.D. agent with all sorts of clearance. Tony worked for the largest former weapons manufacturer in the world.

That didn't stop his blood from running cold when they were shoved into a room and chained to the walls. It didn't stop his breath from stuttering in his throat. It didn't stop the flashbacks.

"Well, what have we here?" A stocky man with a scar down the left side of his face assessed them with a cruel smirk. "What information am I supposed to get out of these, Mata?"

"Weapons launch codes, Mr. Stone." The voice of the man at the door was shaking. "We need them alive for leverage, but we're more likely to get the codes this way."

Stone shook out his hands. Tony tried not to shiver. His eyes didn't say _I will do anything for this information_. Instead they said, _I will enjoy causing you pain, but unfortunately will have to stop if you give up certain information. Oh, well._

And that was just so much more horrifying.

So of _course_ that was when Clint came back to consciousness with a groan. The stocky man's eyes lit up. "Ah, he comes back to us just in time. We are going to have an excellent time, I know it."

"Funny thing." Tony's lips moved almost automatically, his brain following a lightning-fast trail of _Clint – torture – Stone is a psychopath – switch his focus._ "That is _exactly_ what your mom told me last night!" He let loose with that grin that made Natasha (and everyone else) want to punch him.

Stone did so, immediately, in the stomach. Tony grunted as his ribs screamed at him, but managed not to cry out. "You think you're a funny man, yes?"

"No, but your mom did." He raised an eyebrow. "Though she wasn't quite as into BDSM as you are, judging by the number of chains around here. Where do you keep the fuzzy cuffs?"

Stone's attention was sufficiently focused on Tony. The genius knew without a doubt that it hadn't been the best decision for his health, but he had to protect a teammate in danger, especially when that teammate couldn't defend himself.

He found Clint's eyes and inhaled sharply. The pain and frustration were visible and poignant. Clint knew _exactly_ what Tony had just done, but was too tired to protest aloud, much as he wanted to.

 _"Sorry,"_ Tony mouthed to him when Stone went to pick up some tool or other. Clint just shook his head, glanced at Stone, and suddenly his eyes widened in fear.

Tony looked over to see the man holding a strip of leather and winced. He really didn't need a good old-fashioned whipping, but there were worse things Stone could come up with. This, he could take. Anything to keep the man's attention.

"So, you want weapons codes." Tony tilted his head. "No, wait – _you_ couldn't care less about weapons codes. In fact, it would disappoint you _greatly_ if I gave them up."

"Well, I do hate to lose company." Stone smirked.

Tony shook his head slightly. "Luckily for you, I won't be disappointing you." There was one beautiful bright side to this man's desire to cause pain: he would _not_ turn to Clint just to make Tony give up his information. In fact, he wouldn't turn to Clint until Tony ceased to be amusing.

A broken man wouldn't be any fun for the psychopath, so Tony had to remain unbroken.

At the first sensation of skin flaying under the rough leather, he knew it would be harder than he was telling himself. He clenched his teeth into his annoying-as-all-hell grin and closed his eyes.

Eternity passed in fire across his skin and pain down to the bone. He smelled blood and heard someone (probably him, honestly) screaming. He doubled down on his focus and the screaming stopped. Yep, definitely him. Gotta get a handle on that.

"Yeah," he muttered when there was a lull in the pain. "You definitely get off too much on this."

Then he felt fire flick over his skin and his eyes popped open. Stone was holding a lighter to his arm, singeing the hair, burning the skin. He stared in fascination, and then the pain hit him and he had to choke down a scream again.

Some time later, the first goon – _Mata, last name, probably Afghani,_ his brain supplied – came back in with a camera. He raised his eyebrows. "Did you even touch the other one?"

"Did I ask you to criticize my technique?" His eyes narrowed. "I'll move to the other when I've broken this one, not a moment sooner."

Tony sent a prayer of thanks to the goon as he was photographed twice, making sure to keep the grin on his face and form his left hand into first a thumbs-up and then a peace sign.

He had been worried about someone drawing Stone's attention to Clint, but it appeared the man hated the interference. Mata had just ensured that phase one of Tony's plan, _Keep Clint Functional_ , would work for a while longer.

On the other hand, he had to focus all his willpower on smiling for the camera, not letting the pain reach his eyes. The burned skin, the raw whip marks on his back, and the fact that Clint didn't look any worse... well, S.H.I.E.L.D. would guess.

He was just betting on them not showing the photographs to Pepper.


	3. Chapter 3

Nicholas Fury was beyond annoyed. He was _angry_. There he was, with his best analysts and the top intelligence men and women on the planet, recieving photographs over e-mail and not being able to trace it, for god's sake. "Agent Hill. _Find these people._ "

"We're doing our best, sir," she protested, but he was already gone.

He threw the photos down on the conference room table and took in the faces of the Avengers when they saw – and then when they _saw_. Steve at first looked like he was ready to throw up, and when recognition flashed in his eyes, he put his head in his hands. Bruce's eyes flashed green, and then when he saw it, he shook his head and groaned. Thor almost looked impressed.

Natasha started shaking, she saw it _immediately_ , as soon as she saw the pictures. "Oh, Tony, you absolute idiot..."

"We can't let these pictures get to Miss Potts," Fury explained when he asked them all to hand over their phones. "We're concerned she will try to cooperate."

"She would," Bruce murmured. "What's he _thinking_?"

Natasha took a deep breath. "Clint is a trained S.H.I.E.L.D. agent, so he can take a beating, but Stark... Stark is either concussed, an idiot, or has an ulterior motive. I'm going to bet all three."

"He doesn't want S.H.I.E.L.D. to have any reason to do a shoddy, rushed rescue job, or worse... to comply with the demands." Fury realized it in a flash. "He's putting his faith in all of us to do what's best for the world, and hoping that keeping the brunt of it off Clint will keep heads cool."

"Plus," Steve noted, "he needs Clint completely operational for any escape plan. Even if all of it wasn't an issue, though..." he shook his head.

Bruce sighed and pushed his chair back. "Yeah, he'd be doing it anyway. I'm going to get more coffee. Fury, I swear to god, if you don't _find_ these bastards..."

"We will," the director stated confidently, but his face betrayed his doubt. "We've decided it's the Ten Rings doing this simply from the environment and the obvious fixation on weapons... and on Mister Stark. We just have to _find_ them."

"Isn't this the same organization you haven't ever been able to fully shut down?" Steve rose. "I'm going to go look for them. Call me if you find anything else."

As one, the rest of the Avengers rose and walked out the door. Fury _could_ have gotten agents to detain them, he _could_ have locked Bruce in the Hulk Room if he threatened to go green, he _could_ have called ahead to the nearest hangar and ordered them to lock the doors.

Of course, he didn't.

When they were dumped back in their cell, Tony almost didn't realize it. The pain of being hauled down a corridor had stopped him from realizing he wasn't being tortured anymore, and it wasn't until he felt soft hands on his face that he dared to open his eyes.

"You absolute _idiot._ " Clint glowered at him. "I'm a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent, I've been trained to resist torture, I can handle-"

"And I literally do not remember my social security number, much less classified information such as weapons codes;" interrupted Tony, "I do not have colleagues at the world's best intelligence network who, despite their training, might be distracted by seeing me beat up; I'm not going to be much use in an escape anyway; and lastly I wasn't _semiconscious_ and not totally aware of my position!"

Clint's glare crumbled and an expression of worry. "I don't suppose there's any chance of them giving us some medical supplies? You're..." he winced, "kinda beat up."

"Really?" He opened his eyes wide in an expression of surprise. "I didn't notice. And no, there's no way they're giving us anything, much less boiling water and clean bandages."

Suddenly he reached up and grabbed Clint's collar.

"Come here, and listen really carefully." He practically hissed the words, so quietly he was sure no bug could pick them up. "I need to know for certain where we are, but I have a guess. I'm hearing certain dialects and based on cave systems and them not thinking I know the language, we have to be somewhere in far northwestern Iran."

Clint's eyes widened. "Dude. Is this why they call you a genius?"

"No, it's because of the haircut," Tony joked. Then his face turned deadly serious again. "I'm telling Fury that right now, but I need you to do something for me."

"Sure. Anything."

Tony smiled. "It's not even anything dangerous." He whispered an annoyingly vague request and winked at the archer, not giving any explanation. "Don't pose for the pictures."

Clint frowned. Maybe it was the headache, or the pain from the cracked ribs, but he had absolutely no idea what was going on. "Why the hell do you need that?"

The genius shrugged. "So they don't get any mixed signals."


	4. Chapter 4

Fury got another picture. Tony had two black eyes and was grinning at the camera again, slumped against the wall but still grinning, his eyes closed, head bent and hand throwing up the so-called 'sign of the horns.' His hair was even messed up as part of the 'punk rock' act.

Steve couldn't help but snort. "He's still managing to be a wise guy, that's a good sign. No pun intended." He winced at his own unintentional joke.

"What pun?" Bruce shook his head. "Wise guy?"

"No..." Steve winced again that the joke had fallen so flat. "He was making the sign of the horns, that's what they call that hand gesture, so I said it was a good sign..."

Thor laughed, always easily amused, but Natasha just looked at him. And looked at him. And then her eyes widened. "There's no way..."

"Agent Romanov?" Fury looked up, his single eye absolutely focused on her face. "What are you thinking?"

"Uh... do any of you know ASL?" She smiled slightly. "I mean, it's a long shot, but I think Tony is trying to send us a message. Since when does he act punk rock?"

Fury immediately called for a certain agent. Three minutes later, he arrived. "Agent Fredericks is fluent in ASL. Agent, does this form any message?" He displayed the photos.

Fredericks examined the pictures. "So, if the last one had the thumb extended, this would read _V. ten F. I love you._ Unless he has a girlfriend with those initials... what's with the ten, though?"

"We'll check, but I doubt it." Fury sighed. "So the last sign would have to be slightly wrong?"

"It could also be a mutilated _I_ combined with _X_ , but honestly, there are too many ways this could be _slightly wrong_ to believe it's an attempt at communication." Fredericks shook his head. "I'm sorry, but I don't think this is a message."

Steve mirrored Fury's sigh. "Well, it was worth a shot."

Tony was almost glad to be dragged back to face Stone. Not actually glad, of course, but more torture meant more pictures meant more chances to send a message. If anyone was listening – likely – and could understand – unlikely – and the captors didn't figure out what he was doing.

"Morning, Mr. Rock." Tony tried for a grin, but it came out as more of a grimace. "You obviously didn't get your beauty sleep."

Clint shot him a glare, but he just winced back and the archer's gaze softened. Clint seemed to send him a rush of strength after the first blows fell, restoring Tony's purpose and giving him the energy to grit his teeth and look Stone right in the eyes.

That's when Stone brought in the tub of ice water, and Tony nearly broke before it even started. His breath started coming too fast, and he locked his eyes on the ice, trying to stop himself from calling out for Yinsen.

His eyes tore themselves away and found Clint.

"I hear you've done this dance before." Stone's voice rasped in his ear. "Maybe this time you'd like to do it with an audience." He nodded to Clint, and also to Mata, who came in with a camera.

Tony was completely torn as to how to feel. He knew this was a chance to get his message across, but it came at a heavy price. Would he even be able to keep his mind together long enough?

Clint watched him steadily, and Tony realized the man was offering to help. He sent Clint a smile and flashed an _ok_ sign with him left hand. Clint frowned, not sure Tony really _was_ okay.

Then the sign came again, and again, and the archer understood in a flash. He brought his hands out from behind his back and formed the sign himself. Tony corrected him, flashing the symbol again and letting Clint see exactly where his thumb should be.

Then Tony's head was in the water, and he could only watch his friend struggle beneath the surface. The genius's hand still held the _ok_ sign for the camera as he was pulled up for a quick breath of air and then shoved down again.

"Tony..." Clint only whispered, not wanting Stone or Mata to notice his gasp as his friend's fingers separated, turning into tight fists and flailing palms that struggled to push his head from the water, as Stone laughed, as Tony went limp and came up barely able to cough.

Because Clint knew. He knew if Tony was struggling enough to abandon the signal, his friend was certain to break before it was over.

It went on, and on. Minutes stretched as if they were days, but Clint had only two tasks: keep his face in such an expression of horror that Mata wouldn't be able to resist keeping him in the frame of the camera, and keep his fingers in the right position.

"Take the shot," Stone commanded when Tony was coughing up water and shuddering on the ground, and Clint only had time to check to make sure his hand was still in the right position before the flash went off. Tony sounded like he was dying, and as soon as he stopped coughing, he screamed.

It wasn't a scream of pain, but one of raw fear. Clint wanted to scream as well, watching his friend writhe on the cracked stone floor, hands scrabbling at the loose rock, trying to get a hold on reality before he finally just curled into a ball, shaking.

"Tony, Tony..." Clint desperately wished he could run to the man and gather him in his arms, but the chains on the wall prevented him. "Why don't you pick on me, then, you bastard?"

Stone glanced at him, and the malice in his eyes froze Clint on the spot. "Wait your turn, Agent." He picked up a leather strap and lashed Clint once across the chest. "You should be more patient, isn't that in your training somewhere?"

"And you, Mata!" Clint was on a roll. "That's your name, right? You coward! You and Stone both, you can't – _ugh_!" Another blow landed on his chest. The impact forced all the breath from his body and put so much pressure on his cracked ribs that he groaned, only barely avoiding screaming.

He kept his eyes away from Tony, who was coughing and mewling pitifully. Instead, he tried to keep all the attention in the room on him.

"I hear this is the Ten Rings, I say it's more like a three ring circus, and I should know. But in all this place, wherever the hell we are, you must be the biggest coward, Mata, and you, Stone, must be the biggest bastard in the whole damn country." He spit blood in their faces, ignoring the blows that fell on him until a harsh jab to his stomach quite suddenly forced a scream from his lips.

Tony took that as a signal and hoarsely shouted out, standing on his feet even though he swayed dangerously. "Now _that_ , Stone, _that_ is what your mother sounded like!" The fear was still in his eyes, but he grinned savagely and sauntered forward, grinding out the words between clenched teeth.

"What was that, funny man? You haven't had enough yet?" He gestured to the tub of icy water.

In response, Tony swung at the uninjured man. He landed a weak blow, then Stone practically beat him into the ground. Once Tony was reduced to a quivering ball of pain, he was photographed and then hauled up by Mata and dragged back to their cell. Clint soon followed.

"Oh, you rash _lunatic..._ " The archer knelt by his friend, trying to bind a particularly viscious wound that had torn open under the terrible assault. "I can't believe you did that. What did you get?"

While all attention had been on Clint, Tony had managed to rise from the fetal position and snatch two things from a back table full of torture implements.

"Knife," he whispered quietly, "scalpel."

Clint grinned, but winced when he saw blood dripping from the genius's lips. Having nowhere else to hide the small weapons, he had put them in his mouth and clenched his teeth. The folding knife hadn't been a problem, but the scalpel...

The archer dragged his friend to a quiet corner of the room and Tony pretended to be retching, in reality letting the sharp implement fall from his mouth, followed by the folding knife. _"Ow... oh god... ow..."_ Tony curled into Clint.

The man's injuries were designed for maximum pain, and Clint could do nothing but hold Tony gently and try to distract him. "How many photos to go?"

"Hm... well, one... more, assuming... they figure it... out." Tony was crying and didn't seem to be able to breathe well. He was shivering violently, and Clint removed his shirt to towel him down.

"Tony? I need you to show me the last signal." He rubbed the man's back, trying to avoid the whip marks but desperate to calm him. "You might not be in any state to show the camera tomorrow."

Tony winced. "They'll probably come back tonight. Get us while we're sleeping." Slowly, he brought his hand in front of him, fingers violently twitching.

He curled them into the letter _O._

 **A/N (yeah i know a rare sighting of the actual author wtf) - Has anyone actually figured it out? I'm honestly curious if anyone knows what he's doing.**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N - Chapter 5: in which all of your questions are answered.**

Bruce broke down and left at the latest pictures. "I can't... be here." He bolted from the room, trying not to go green. Steve nearly threw up, and Thor punched a metal wall so hard that his fist went through into the next room.

"There." Natasha pointed to the first picture they had received. " _Tony_ giving us weird hand signs is one thing, but _Clint_? And then look at Tony in the next one, he shouldn't even be able to move, let alone hold his hand up to the camera."

"All right, Agent Romanov, that's enough." Fury put a hand on her shoulder. "I sent the latest pictures to Fredericks. In ASL, they are another _F_ and an _E._ If you can tell me what it means, I'm more than ready to believe Tony and Clint are trying to tell us something, but..."

Steve shook his head. _"V, ten, F,_ something that could mean _I love you_ or an _I_ and an _X_ , _F, E._ "

"What the hell?" Natasha slammed a fist down on the table. "This is making no sense. Besides, ASL is a damned stupid way to communicate when we can assume their captors aren't stupid, they probably checked the signals..."

She turned as white as a sheet. Fury looked up and barked, " _Agent?_ "

Natasha turned to the door and shouted, _"Someone get me a computer, now! I don't care if it's a security breach, I need Google!"_

"Nat, tell me, _now._ " Fury put his hands on her shoulders.

"At least a few of their kidnappers would have to think of checking their hand signals," Natasha explained. "I imagine they would have checked ASL, because I would have, hell, I bet _Tony_ would have. But who in hell..."

She actually had to stop and let out a laugh as Bruce walked back into the room and everyone stared at her, waiting, expectant.

"Who the hell says a polyglot like Tony would only know _American_ Sign Language?"

They came for them in the night, as Tony had suspected. Clint was hauled to his feet and shoved down the hall, but Tony had to be carried to move fast enough. He was still shaking, despite the fact that he was wearing Clint's shirt over his own.

"Well, gentlemen." Stone shook his head at the sight of them, oblivious to the blood staining Tony's lips. "Much as I've been enjoying our sessions, I grow tired of certain insolent behaviors. I feel rather _challenged_ , and I intended to take that challenge."

Tony said it before Clint could, much as the archer desperately wanted to be the one to take the impending blows. "Oh, yeah, you're definitely challenged, friend."

Watching his friend waterboarded and then dried off only to be brutally whipped and cut only fueled Clint's intense anger. He was absolutely ready, but only Tony, oh, only his friend could strike the final blow... and it _could not_ come until the last photo was taken.

When it was time, however, when some of Tony's wounds had alcohol poured into them until he screamed loud and long and sobbed on the floor, Clint wasn't in the frame. So, when he saw that his friend was dead to the world, he screamed.

 _"Oh, Tony!"_ He used emphasis carefully, so that people heard him calling out for his friend, but his friend heard something very different.

 _"O", Tony!_ The genius, shaking, glared up at the camera and tilted his hand to form the circle. So when the flash went off, even though he could no longer smile, even for show, he knew.

He knew his message would be received.

She checked three languages before she found it. It was the sign of the horns that gave it away, and her loud shout put grins on every face.

 _"French!"_

"What's the message?" Fury had a piece of paper and a pencil out, ready to transcribe. "If it'sthe name of the group responsible for this, that will be something to go on, at least..."

Natasha searched, looking at each photo and then the alphabet. "Okay sign is _T_... thumbs up is _A..._ peace sign is _K_ or _V_ or _P_ or _X_... sign of the horns is _H_... Clint's okay is another _T..._ "

"Takht. It's a place, there are some towns in Iran..." Agent Hill clenched her fist, "and Afghanistan... and probably a few other-"

"And then the next is _E_ , and the latest..." she shivered at the look in Tony's eyes. "The latest is an _O_. I used Wikipedia for Takht Eo, but I'm not getting much..."

Fury shot to his feet and said the name like a swear word. _"Takht-e Olya!"_

He and Hill ran for the bridge without a second thought.

"Guys?" Steve looked up. "How many other _Takht-e O_ s could there be? Now that Tony did all he could to alert us..."

"Look at his other hand." Bruce pointed. "It almost looks like he's _waving_. The question is... would that be _hello_ or _goodbye_?"

Fury poked his head back in. "Probably _I'm out of here_ , knowing Barton and Stark. Your helicopter is waiting, unless you're going to be smart and wait for us to assemble a team. It'll be a tough nut to crack if those two can't get out."

"We'll be leaving now," Steve said curtly, standing. "If your team shows up in time, they _might_ get there before we're done."


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6 - in which we are all very glad that Tony managed to sneak sharp things to Clint. Because Hawkeye... and sharp things.**

It was almost noon when Tony whispered, "Clint, we need to get ready."

"The others will be showing up?" Clint smiled. "Once the guards are distracted, we leave, then. Can you stand?"

"I can stand." Tony looked up with fear in his eyes. "I won't be able to walk a step, though. You could rendezvous with-"

Clint raised his eyebrows and carefully ennunciated. _"Like. Hell."_ He smiled and ran his hand over Tony's sweaty forehead. "We're going together."

That's when Stone came, and Mata with him, and hauled the two of them back to that room that by now smelled overwhelmingly like blood. They beat Tony mercilessly again and then left him shaking and turned when Clint spit abuse at them, their mothers, and their country.

And then Mata drew too close to Clint, and the archer lashed out, the knife he had palmed slashing the man's throat effortlessly.

"Oh!" Stone leapt out of range and burst out laughing. "Oh, you'll pay for that, true, you will most certainly pay, but that was _good_ , Agent of S.H.I.E.L.D.! Very nice indeed!"

"Want another demonstration?" Clint smiled as wickedly as he could. "Step a little closer!"

Instead, Stone picked up a gun and shot Clint in the shoulder. He dropped the knife and screamed, the sound echoing off the rock walls. Stone came closer and put his huge hands around Clint's throat.

He started to squeeze.

 _Oh, hell, no._ Clint tried to get a breath in before his airway was constricted, but it was no use. His working hand came up to claw at Stone's face, but it didn't even bother the psychopath.

Somewhere far above him, he heard an explosion, and he _knew_ S.H.I.E.L.D. was there. The Avengers had come to save them, but this place they were in would be well-defended, and they definitely wouldn't get there in time to save Clint.

He didn't worry, though. Oh, he feared for his life, every self-preservation he had fired off at once, but he did _not_ think he was going to die.

And sure enough, blood showered his face, and Stone reeled backward, throat cut but not deep enough, the scalpel sharp as all hell found its way into Clint's hand, and he _threw_.

It flew like one of his arrows, embedding itself in Stone's eye as Tony struggled to pick the lock on Clint's chains. It was obvious that the genius was in a bad way, but his shaking, fumbling fingers still knew locks, and he managed to get Clint's good hand free and hand him the lock pick before he gave in to the pain and curled into himself.

"Hold on, you... you absolutely _mad genius._ " Clint picked the rest of the locks quickly and bent down next to his defender. "I am going to do what you spared me a hell of a lot of beatings so that I could do: I'm going to get us out of here. Just hold on to me, because I only have one good arm."

Tony clutched Clint's chest, and Clint supported him with his screaming injured arm. In his other hand he held the gun. It might not have been his weapon of choice, but he would not miss.

"Wasn't..." Tony, through a horrific haze of pain, had somehow heard him. "Wasn't to... get us... out... was... 'cause you're Clint." His finish was weak and confused, but it made the archer want to hold him and never let him go.

"You're a hell of a guy, Tony Stark. Now shut up and let's leave this shithole."

He cut down anyone in his way. He had no idea where an exit could be, but he went with the flow, because he assumed any running guards were trying to get to the attack, and the attack was outside, so he joined the flow of men – and cut down all the others.

"Duck!" Tony croaked, and Clint dropped to one knee and shot behind him blindly as a bullet whizzed over his head. "Ya got him..."

"You just can't stop saving my life, can you?" Clint laughed and continued his rampage, and finally he heard people yelling behind him and knew they were almost out of time.

Sunlight ahead! He smiled-

and quite suddenly he was falling.

Steve was getting _really_ frustrated. This place was nearly unbreachable. Nearly. He had to believe it was nearly, but they were holding out against a super soldier, a master assassin, a Hulk _and a god_ , so they were starting to look really good, defensively. Not that the Avengers would ever retreat...

"I can't get through these _damned_ defenses!" Natasha's frustrated cry echoed in his earpiece. "There isn't anywhere I can slip through!"

"Fury wasn't kidding about this being a tough nut to crack," Steve ground out between clenched teeth. "Otherwise, they would have cracked it a long time ago, before any of this happened."

Thor shook his head. "At this rate, they will decide to kill our friends and run rather than submit to this assault."

Well, the Hulk didn't like that. He practically ran _through_ the crossfire and barrelled toward the doors, roaring a challenge.

A huge explosion tossed the Hulk, Thor, Steve, and Natasha backward. Hulk flew the farthest, landing injured – they had _hurt the Hulk_ – at the foot of a sand dune. Steve barely managed to get to his feet. "What the actual fuck?! Who _are_ these guys?"


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N - the next chapter will probably be the last, surprisingly. That went by fast. I've got another kidnapping story already posting, though, as well as my usual conglomeration of oneshots and of course Midnight.**

Tony picked up Clint's gun and shot at the man who had taken down the master assassin. He fell just as Clint had, but absolutely dead and Tony _really_ hoped his friend wasn't the same.

"Buddy, talk to me." His words were groaned out, and he tried to feel for a pulse in Clint's neck, and there was blood everywhere but _there was a pulse!_ "All right, where ya hurt..."

Clint had been shot through the stomach. There was a lot of blood, but as far as Tony could tell, the man might live if he got medical attention.

There was only one thing for Tony to do. Sunlight right ahead, a dying man beside him, enemies coming up fast behind him...

He picked Clint up and ran for the exit.

"Like... _hell_..." he muttered when something deep inside him considered the option of leaving Clint behind. Even the tiny voice that had suggested it concurred when Tony said, echoing his friend, "We're going together."

He didn't add _or not at all._

He didn't add _going where?_

And he definitely didn't add, in the dark place in his brain, _or we're gonna die trying._

In the end, it was Clint who saved his life at the last, waking up right outside the mouth of the cave system, grabbing the gun from Tony's limp fingers as the genius finally fell, and opening fire.

The chaos within the lines, combined with a concentrated push from the Avengers and the S.H.I.E.L.D. reinforcements, broke open the tiniest of holes.

Clint picked up Tony and ran through the hole, taking another bullet graze to the arm but paying it no attention as he ran, and ran, until he ran right into Steve's arms and promptly passed out cold, still clinging desperately to his friend.

Natasha was crying, light, shoulder-quivering sobs as she pressed on Clint's stomach to stop the bleeding and stared at Tony nearly bleeding out on the sands. She wasn't embarassed, because honestly the men were crying harder than she was.

"Medical evac is here!" Agent Hill was practically screaming at them as she and Thor grabbed Tony from the sand and ran for a helicopter. Steve and Natasha followed as fast as they could with Clint, still trying to stop the bleeding.

The medics grabbed their friends, but there was only room for one other passenger in the helicopters. They all glanced at each other, and Natasha made an executive decision that she really wasn't authorized to make. "Steve." She wanted to stay with her partner and her good friend, but she knew their leader should be there to make any tough calls, to argue with doctors, and everything.

"Thank you," Steve muttered, leaping in and trying to stay out of the way.

He wasn't really talking to Natasha, but to the struggling and brutally wounded men in front of him. _Thank you,_ he thought, they all thought. _Thank you for being alive._

* * *

The beeping of hospital heart monitors was a bit of a shock for a barely conscious Tony Stark. He didn't fear the things, but for the life of him he couldn't understand how he got from a cave in the middle of who-knew-where to a hospital.

Then things came rushing in. First the fact that _he_ knew where: in the general area of Takht-e Olya. Second, _he had told the Avengers_ that important fact.

And then, everything. Every bullet flying around them and every plunge into icy water that ended with him gasping and retching on the floor.

"Hey... hey, calm down, Tony, it's okay... Tony?" The voice was hard to place for a moment. _Steve. Of course, Steve._ "It's okay, you're safe. Are you with us? Are you awake?"

He considered the question, vaguely remembering being locked in fever-driven nightmares for what felt like years. He also wasn't sure his throat would support his efforts to speak.

 _Only one way to find out._ He tried to pry his eyes open, and was 'rewarded' with a stab of too-bright light. "Ow!"

"Shit! Bruce, the lights!" Suddenly the stabbing at his eyes was gone, and the room was lit only be the gentle glow of medical displays. "Better?"

"Much..." he stammered out the word and blinked his eyes half a dozen times. There was only one pressing question to him. _"Clint?"_

To his surprise, his answer didn't come from Steve. "Right here." A feather-soft touch floated across his cheek, and his eyes wandered to the left to find a battered, bruised, bandaged and _so very much alive_ Clint Barton. He nearly started crying. "Right here, I'm fine. You'll be fine, too."

"Hot _damn_ ," he tried, "we are _good._ "

"Who the hell is _we_ , I seem to remember you doing all the work," Clint pointed out. Tony barely noticed Steve and Bruce slip from the room. "Tony, you saved my ass."

Tony rolled his eyes. "Right... because carrying my beat-up ass out of there – no, Clint, twenty feet to the edge of the cave doesn't count – wasn't _work_. We saved each others' ass."

"You took it all." Clint rubbed circles in the palm of Tony's hand, trying to drive away the shaking in the man's fingers. "For me."

"Sorry about that," he joked, "Mister _I'm-An-Agent-I've-Been-Trained_ needed to use his training to get us out of there." He tried to relax, but the pain was everywhere, especially his mind.

Clint frowned as he realized that Tony wasn't shaking the memories off. "Tony, I'll be honestly. I've been in hundreds of life-or-death situations, I've been involved in dozens of infiltrations, but that was the bravest thing I've ever seen. And I mostly mean a totally beat-up and barely conscious Tony Stark heaving my bleeding-out ass over his shoulder and running out of there."

"I don't really know what happened after that," Tony admitted. "I assume you got off your ass and carried mine to the team?"

Clint nodded. "S.H.I.E.L.D. couldn't get in, so we had to get out, but once we were out in the open, the team got us away from there."

"Remember what you said? Something about us getting out, together?" Tony grabbed his hand, still shaking. " _Thank you._ The last time I did this... that wasn't a promise he could keep."

Now it started making sense. Tony wasn't still caught in that place in his mind, he was still caught in the place before, the cave in Afghanistan. "Tony, look at me." He met those sharp brown eyes and gently brushed Tony's hair aside from them. "We're both alive. We _did_ make it out together, and I'm not going anywhere until you can come with me, okay?"

"Thanks, Clint." Tony slowly came back to the present, and pulled Clint closer until he could rest his head in the archer's lap. "You know, I should teach you French Sign Language, or something else cool," he muttered drowsily, already falling asleep with Clint's hands lightly resting on his head.

He dimly heard the reply. "I'd like that."

 **A/N - They're safe and sound! ^_^**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N - So Long, Farewell, Auf Wiedersehen, Goodnight!**

The next time he woke up, the team was back, asleep in chairs and on the couch, and his head was on the pillow again, but Clint's hand was still resting lightly in his. He gave it a small squeeze.

"Hey, sleepy-head." Clint smiled. "Going to give the others a chance to yell at you for being an idiot, now?"

"I suppose I should just get it over with." Tony grinned, that same grin he had worn like a mask to antagonize Stone. "Hey, Cap." He poked the closest man, the super-soldier in the hospital chair on the opposite side from Clint.

Steve blinked a few times, then focused in on Tony's face. "Hey, Tony." He smiled slightly. "You are absolutely _terrifying_ sometimes without how stubborn you are. Don't scare us like that."

"Sorry about that." He hesitated. "Actually, I'm really _not_ , I still haven't thought of a better plan than the one we used." He rolled his eyes.

Natasha woke up at their voices and both grinned and glared at him. "Ooh, you absolute _idiot_!You _stupid, arrogant,_ son of a bitch, you are brilliant." She gently hugged him as best she could and whispered a soft, "Thank you so much."

Bruce just smiled at him, rubbing his eyes to wake up ( _not_ because he was almost crying, no, sir!) and said in a soft voice, "It's been awfully boring around here without you."

"Man of Iron!" Thor's voice was, for once, at acceptable levels for a hospital room. "You are awake! Your bravery rivalled that of warriors of Asgard, I am greatly pleased that you did not perish."

"Thanks, Thor," he laughed. " _Perishing_ isn't in the job description. So... I really have to ask... who was it? Who figured it out?"

Steve smirked and pointed a finger right into Natasha's face. She blushed and swatted it away, muttering about a group effort.

"None of that, Nat." Tony took her hand and grinned up at her. "You saved our lives. I was half expecting that nobody would figure out I wasn't just being my idiot self."

"I almost didn't," she admitted. "The French, that just threw us all for a loop. Your timing was impeccable, though... the last p-picture came just as we cracked the code."

He didn't miss her stutter. "I'm really sorry about those. I probably looked like shit."

"Thor punched through a wall." Steve sold out his fellow Avenger remorselessly. "Like, a metal one. Double thick. I'm thinking about putting a picture frame around it."

"Buddy!" Tony laughed, but it turned into a painful wheeze. "Ah, fuck, my ribs are still out of it." He frowned at the offending area. "Catch up, will ya?"

Clint laughed. "You should have seen the state the doctors have been in around here. I heard at least three of them talking about quitting because they're sick of the same patients managing to get themselves in here all the time. Mostly _you_ , I do believe."

Tony rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, I'm insufferable, I know." He tried to shrug, wincing at pain in his shoulders. "It's because I need shit to do with my hands when I'm in pain, and this hospital most certainly is _not_ my workshop."

"Maybe we should get you a doll," Natasha quipped with a deadpan expression.

"Naaaaaaat!"

 **The End of "Signs of Life." Everyone is safe and Tony is already bored, but I doubt anyone well ever consider kidnapping an Avenger ever again.**


End file.
